


Because He was He, and I was I

by Silvarbelle



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-26
Updated: 2012-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-30 03:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvarbelle/pseuds/Silvarbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of three ghosts to teach him a Christmas lesson, Rodney has three friends to help him pull his head out of his ass just in time to save Valentine's Day with John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because He was He, and I was I

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Valentine's Day Debacle](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/6563) by Gnine. 



> Title of this story comes from the quote: "If you press me to say why I loved him, I can say no more than because he was he, and I was I." ~ Michel de Montaigne
> 
> Permission to fic-isize Gnine's comic comes straight from her. =D
> 
> Beta'd by CrystallicSky; any remaining inadequacies are mine.

Rodney sat beside Zelenka in a diagnostics lab. They had laptops open before them and they were slowly scrolling through about ten billion lines of code. Rodney was enjoying the peace and quiet, really, of losing himself in essential but not particularly strenuous work.

And then, Radek cleared his throat and asked, "So... what are you doing for Valentine's Day?"

It took a few seconds for that statement to filter through Rodney's brain, but when it did, the first words out of his mouth were: "Oh, God – you're not asking me out, are you?"

When Radek sighed and pushed his fingers against his temple, the sure sign of frustration or a headache (or both), Rodney scowled at him. "Look, it was a reasonable question to ask given I was summarily yanked out of my code monkey thought processes!"

"Oh, yes, reasonable," Zelenka said, his voice dry. He gave his friend and boss a sardonic smirk. "Eminently reasonable, given that I am straight and you are currently in relationship with someone else already, yes?"

Rodney snorted. "Yes; yes, I am, but I am me and that should be enough for anyone."

"Certainly, you are enough," Radek muttered.

Rodney squinted at him on a sour little pout.

"What?" Radek snapped, peevish.

"If you don't have designs on my big, juicy, sexy brain, then why did you bring up Valentine's Day?" Rodney asked, manfully ignoring the spluttered laughter from the other scientist.

When Radek got control of himself, he wiped his glasses clean with his shirt hem and put them back on his face before smirking at McKay. "I say it because it is coming, ano? In only few days' time. I know how hopeless you are about people awareness, so I thought maybe to play desk calendar and remind you."

"I don't need any help remembering the wretched so-called 'holiday'!" Rodney growled, refocusing on the screen of his laptop. "Bloody commercialized emotional trap, is what it is." He pitched his voice into a falsetto range. "'If you don't get me jewelry, I won't love you anymore!' 'If I don't get a ridiculously expensive stuffed toy, I'm going to torture you about it for weeks!' 'If you don't get me flowers, it means you don't love me!'"

Radek snorted, but looked down at his own screen. However, a reflection just at the edge of the screen caught his eye and he twisted to peer over his shoulder. Ah, yes; Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, as he had thought he'd seen. The lanky man stood a few feet behind them, looking at his Rodney with a fond gaze. Radek could see a hint of bulk and red over the airman's right shoulder and smiled to himself as he faced forward again.

"You do not believe in giving tokens of affection?" Radek asked of Rodney.

"What? Yes, of course I do! If it will get me laid, I'll buy whatever it takes!"

Zelenka gasped on a half-laugh, half-groan before snapping, "No! No, Rodney. I mean... do you not give something to a lover just because you think they will appreciate it? Do you not expect such for yourself?" He held up a hand. "No, not someone looking to buy your favor, but a gift from someone who cares for you."

Rodney gave him a suspicious look. "Why are you asking?"

"Because I think you have not had a lover before now and you are confused as to what to expect," Radek said, "and while I normally would rather contemplate a Wraith's bathing habits or lack thereof than the freak parade that is you in love, I would hate to see your relationship with Colo—"

" _Yes_ , thank you, I know whom I am in a relationship with!" Rodney hissed, reminding Radek of the need to be discreet.

"Ah. Yes. True. At any rate... I would not want this good thing to be ruined for either of you. Therefore... tokens? You give him flowers, he gives them to you, yes?"

Rodney rolled his eyes and tapped the PgDn button a few times. " _Flowers?_ For _Sheppard?_ One: he is not a woman. Two: _I_ am certainly not a woman. Therefore, neither of us are likely to appreciate such overtly feminist romantic frippery. Also, three: they are _everywhere_ recently. Do you have any idea how many antihistamines I've had to take in the last couple of days? Nothing says 'romance' like a sneezing up a lung. 'Oh, my darling, how I love you: let me count the sneezes! One-achoo, two-achoo...' and so on."

When he glanced over, Rodney found Zelenka twisted around, peering over his shoulder toward the door. Rodney turned around, but saw nothing there. He frowned at his friend. "What? Did you see something?"

Zelenka sighed as he turned back to his laptop. He shook his head. "No, Rodney; I saw nothing."

"Why are you suddenly morose? Oh, no – you didn't get me flowers for Valentine's Day, did you?"

Radek glared at him. "No!"

"Well... I mean, not in a _romantic_ kind of way, but maybe more of a 'You've saved my life so often and you're such a wonderful boss and I think very highly of you' kind of way?"

Radek rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and muttered something in his native tongue.

Rodney scowled at him. "I am _not_ an oblivious bastard and _what_ is right in front of me except ten billion lines of code?"

"You are and there is more to see in life than _code_ , McKay."

"Oh, _really_. Such as what, since you're the love expert, Doctor Cosmopolitan?" Rodney sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I will tell you this: just because _you_ think something is ridiculous, does not mean another person does. What seems frivolous to you could mean a lot to someone else,” Radek advised.

Rodney frowned. “You’re being cryptic on purpose, aren’t you?”

Radek sighed and pressed at his temples again. “You are genius, yes? You will figure it out. Now, let us review the ten billion lines of code so we may depart sooner.”

Rodney snorted, but was soon back in his peaceful code-induced trance.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Rodney walked alongside Ronon on their way to the gym, both men carrying sparring staffs. He wasn't looking forward to the smiting Ronon was sure to give him, but he was certainly grateful that the other man was taking time out of his busy schedule of beating the crap out of Marines to do this with him. Rodney had initially protested until Ronon had shut him up with a single sentence:

"I need to know you can defend yourself long enough for one of us to get to you."

The quiet, gruff statement of protective attention had touched Rodney enough to silence his protests – well, most of them. He still griped for griping's sake, but whenever Ronon showed up with their sparring staffs in hand, Rodney went with him without fail.

In the middle of telling Ronon about the weirdness with Zelenka the day before, Ronon surprised him by asking, "So, you doing Valentine's Day?"

Rodney stumbled over his words as his brain redirected his focus. He finally asked, "What?"

Ronon gave him an arch look. "You doin’ Valentine's Day?"

"Am I...? What? Why would you—? Did you not just hear me telling you about how accurate the commercialized so-called love holiday is to the massacre it was named for?" Rodney demanded to know.

Ronon shrugged. "You said Zelenka was bugging you about it. What's so wrong with it? You get nice things out of it." He gave Rodney a wolfish grin. "I hear you get chocolate."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, of course you would lock onto _that_ part of it."

"'S the big deal? Thought you liked chocolate – seen you eat enough of it."

Rodney gave the other man a death glare. "Sure, I like chocolate as much as the next guy. Those heart-shaped pre-selected sampler boxes that seem _de rigueur_ for the holiday? Ugh." He gave a dramatic shudder. "Do you know what's in those things? Poisonous death! At least for me! Occasionally, you get lucky with nougat or caramel, but more often than not, you get _crèmes_. I've heard plenty of people bitch about how awful they taste, but I'll never know for sure. The one and only time I tried one, I was four-years-old and discovered my allergy to citrus! My mother had left the box my father had gotten for her – that was back when they were still reasonably tolerant of each other – and I had either a lemon or an orange crème-filled chocolate. No, lemon; I'm sure it was lemon, given my overwhelming fear and hatred for that particular yellow poison. Anyway! Most of the sampler boxes come loaded with those horrid things. It's Russian Roulette with candy! Ew. Thank you, but no."

Finishing his long diatribe, he looked up to find that Ronon was glancing back over his shoulder. He turned, but saw nothing except a corridor they had just passed. "What is it?"

"Nothin'," Ronon muttered.

"No, really – you never get twitchy unless it's something," Rodney argued.

"It's _nothing_ , McKay," Ronon growled. "C'mon, let's hit the gym, already. If someone's dumb enough to give you a box of candy that you're scared of, you can give it to Sheppard – he likes the things."

"He... what? How do you know?"

"He mentioned it when explaining Valentine's Day to me; said he likes the guessing game of the chocolate box. C'mon." With that, he led Rodney into the gym for their twice-weekly sparring session.

Rodney frowned as he considered that statement. Of course Sheppard would like the inane gesture of the sampler box. He liked silly things. Why hadn't it occurred to him that John might like such a thing?

He let the thought go in a hurry as he stepped through the gym door and instantly found himself under attack from Ronon.

"Damn it, you Neanderthal! I _hate_ it when you do that!"

Ronon's vicious grin was answer enough and Rodney cursed some more as he went on the defensive, all thoughts of Sheppard and chocolate left behind.

 

*~*~*~*

 

“May I join you, Rodney?”

Rodney looked up from his lunch to find Teyla standing next to the table he’d chosen. He smiled at her and gestured enthusiastically to the chair across from him. "Teyla! Yes, of course – sit, sit. You know you can always sit with me." He winced and looked at her, a trifle anxious. "You do know that, don't you? I mean, I – I – that is, I haven't made you think you're not welcome, have I?"

Teyla smiled as she settled across from him, warm and graceful as always. "Relax, Rodney. Yes, of course I know I am welcome with you. There are simply times when I am loath to intrude when you look to be intent upon an internal problem."

"Oh," Rodney murmured, watching her cut at the chicken on her tray. "I... um. Yes? Thank you? I mean: I wasn't having a problem, but... oh, hell."

Teyla chuckled and reached across to pat his hand. "I understand what you mean, Rodney. Thank you. Still, you _did_ seem to be deep in a thought that displeased you. May I be of any assistance?"

"Oh! That's, um... that's very kind of you," Rodney murmured, looking down at his own tray. He picked up his fork and poked at the salad greens on his tray. He'd never really given thought to such healthy food before until Teyla, in the first year in Atlantis, had remarked she worried about his health for it would be a grave loss to the people of both their galaxies if he were to injure himself with an improper diet. While he'd never be as health-conscious as his teammates, Rodney had realized the correctness of her statement (and recognized her subtle words of caring) and had begun voluntarily eating better than he had been.

Putting the thought of health-food aside, he asked, "So... Valentine's Day."

Teyla raised her eyebrows as she sipped at her cup of tea. "Yes? What of it?"

"You know what it is, right?"

She smirked at him. "Yes, Rodney – I believe I have become familiar with Earth holidays after long association with the Tau'ri."

He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Where did you pick that up?"

"From Master Teal'c. I was introduced to him when I went to Earth for my IOA interview last year. I like him very much. He calls your people the Tau'ri. I find I like the name; it is elegant, yet strong – like the people the name belongs to."

Rodney smiled a little and tucked a bit of fish onto his fork with his greens. "I never thought of it like that before."

Teyla remained silent and waited for him to continue while she consumed her midday meal. She knew he would do so in a far more graceful manner if she gave him space to organize his thoughts.

Eventually, Rodney said, "So, Valentine's Day. Are you doing anything special for it? It's tomorrow."

She smiled. "Yes, actually. Mister Woolsey has agreed to babysit Torren John for me while Kanaan and I have a romantic meal together in our quarters."

Rodney blinked and looked at her. "Woolsey? As in: Richard Woolsey?"

"Is there any other Woolsey on Atlantis?" Teyla asked, teasing him gently.

Rodney scowled. "No. Only... I wouldn't have expected him as a babysitter."

"He mentioned that he does not indulge in the holiday and offered his services if I required them. He has interacted with Torren John many times and my son is tolerant of him. I believe he will be perfectly safe in Richard's care while Kanaan and I enjoy a candlelit dinner together."

Rodney snorted and glowered down at his quickly disappearing lunch.

Teyla raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "You do not agree with my assessment of Richard's suitability as a care provider?"

"What? No, no... I'm sure he'll be fine. TJ's about the size of a Yorkie, right? Woolsey keeps going on about that dog of his that he misses so much. All he'll have to do is pretend TJ's a hairless puppy and everything'll be swell," Rodney grumbled.

Teyla hid a smile behind her mug of tea. "If not that, then what displeases you so?"

"Oh... nothing." Rodney took two big bites of his salad, clearing the greens from his tray. "Just... I don't get it: the whole candlelit dinner thing. I've never found ferocious squinting particularly arousing."

Teyla muffled her laughter as Rodney squinted intently at her, his entire face shriveling up into a central point toward his nose in his demonstration.

A moment later, he relaxed and went back to eating his fish as he muttered, "I can just see it now: 'Let's squint at each other in the little amount of light there is to see by.'"

"You do not think candlelight is romantic?" she asked, tracking the progress of a passerby while Rodney consumed the rest of his meal.

"Well... doesn't it send the wrong message?" Rodney asked, his words tense. "It's like saying to the other person 'You are so much more desirable when I can barely see you'."

Teyla frowned and reached out to cup a hand over one of his wrists. He instantly went still rather than flail his hands about as he normally did while talking. She had long ago noticed that he would hold himself perfectly still if she touched him out of a desire to not accidentally injure her. She'd long appreciated his consideration of her, choosing to listen to his body's movement rather than his mouth's words.

"Rodney," she murmured, "did someone say that to you in your past?"

He hunched his shoulders up around his ears. "Not... precisely. But after enough alcohol was ingested, the implication was put forth all the same."

"Oh, Rodney," Teyla said, and ached for him. "Surely you know that person was wrong."

McKay said nothing; simply stared down at his empty tray.

Teyla watched the passerby – John, of course, who had gone still at Rodney’s diatribe in the process of walking past their table with dinnerware and candles in his hand – leave the mess hall. With a sigh, she squeezed Rodney's hand and he looked up at her. She hated the hint of shame she saw in his gaze and silently cursed the insensitive soul that had made him feel that way.

"Rodney," she said, her voice firm, "the person you were with then is not the person you are with now."

He blinked at her. "What? No... I know. I mean—"

"You do not honestly believe John would be so cruel to you?"

He gave her an indignant glare as he gently pulled his wrist from under her hand and straightened up. "Of _course not_ , Teyla! It's... he's..." He looked around, swiftly assessing their security, and then continued in a quieter tone. "It's John. _He's_ John. He would never... he just _wouldn't_. He can be a jerk sometimes, a real horse's ass, but he's not a _monster_."

"Of course he isn't," she agreed. "He is a good man; compassionate to the needs of others, even complete strangers. For his lover, he would be even more so... agreed?"

Rodney bit his lip and nodded; a sharp jerk of his head. "Agreed."

"Then, do me a favor: picture him in your mind, sitting with you at a table full of food. The only light to go by is from candles. What does the candlelight do to him? What can you see?"

Rodney sighed, but he dutifully put his mind to the task given him. Refusing Teyla was never a very intelligent idea and he was far from stupid. So, he turned his mind's eye inward to one of his favorite images: John Sheppard. God, but he loved to look at the man. John was rough and rugged and kind of shaggy, but it really _worked_ for him. He brought candlelight into the image, borrowed from memory of off-world missions lit only by candle flame. John's skin went golden and shadowy in parts, playing over his face and throat, his ears and hair. The hazel eyes were darkened in color, but reflected the candlelight in a flickering sparkle that made him look otherworldly. In his mind's eye, those eyes looked at him as if he were everything that mattered and John's mouth curved in a smile as warm and soft as the light that covered them.

Rodney gasped, opening eyes he wasn't aware he'd closed, and looked at Teyla while his heart pounded.

Teyla smiled at him. "Do you now see the benefit of candlelight in the presence of a loved one?"

Rodney swallowed hard, his throat clicking as he croaked, "Yes... I see."

"I am happy for you," she murmured.

Rodney nodded decisively and stood up. "Excuse me, won't you? I... I have something – work! I have stuff to do."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Rodney," Teyla replied, serene and smug as she sipped at her tea.

Rodney made a noise that was part-agreement, part-frustration, and part-despair before rushing away from the table, leaving his tray behind.

Teyla didn't mind cleaning up after him. The mission Rodney was now on was far more important than his appalling table manners.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Rodney paced as he waited for John, his heart pounding and his palms damp in his nervousness. He’d called his lover to a private area, to a balcony in a little used section of Atlantis after spending the last twenty-four hours assuring that no one would intrude upon them while setting the scene for his attempt at romance.

He only hoped his efforts would not be in vain.

“Alright, Rodney, I’m here,” John said, his voice carrying from the room just beyond the opened wall panels. “What’s going on that you gotta—?”

His voice broke off as he stepped out onto the balcony Rodney had chosen. Fortunately, the moon cycle of the planet Atlantis resided on had coincided with the Earth love holiday, and so light from three full moons lit the ocean surrounding them. The bulk of Atlantis herself shielded the balcony that Rodney had chosen, which meant that the light from the candles he’d borrowed from one of the more romantically inclined scientists was not overpowered.

As John stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the small table covered in candles, a bouquet of lush red roses, and a heart-shaped box of chocolates, Rodney cleared his throat and pulled out a chair in a gesture of invitation and welcome.

“I… that is… I’m really not into the whole ‘Valentine’s Day’ gimmick,” Rodney muttered. “As a gimmick, that is. I’ve seen too many colleagues suffer from a sure design for failure; I’ve… I’ve suffered that same failure because I followed a script in the hopes it would get me laid. But this… well… while I normally mock the day for all that it has come to stand for in our culture, it _has_ been pointed out to me recently that not everyone is as… cynical… as I am. And this isn’t about simply getting something in return for pulling my head out of my ass long enough to pay attention to someone else, John.”

Sheppard’s head went back in a smooth lift of chin, but Rodney could see the relaxation in his lover’s shoulders and hips that meant “please keep talking.”

“This,” Rodney said, meeting John’s gaze, “is not about that. It isn’t about what I used to do, used to expect. This is about you and that I… well… I want you to know that I appreciate you and your presence in my life. So, despite how corny all this might seem, despite the fact I’ll most likely sneeze in your face, despite the tension headache we’ll likely each get from squinting at each other and the possible chance of poisoning me, I would like to take this opportunity to wish you a Happy Valentine’s—“

That was as far as he got before John’s mouth crushed up against his.

Rodney blinked, startled at the speed with which Sheppard had moved. When John laughed into his mouth and then kissed him in that luxurious way that made him feel like he was being tasted and loved, Rodney relaxed as he pulled his lover close against him.

“I did good?” he whispered between soft, slow kisses that made him feel wonderfully drunk. 

Or maybe that was just John. He wouldn’t be surprised; Sheppard had been screwing with his equilibrium since the day John had plunked his skinny ass in a Lantean chair in the Antarctic outpost and pulled the Milky Way galaxy out of his mind as easy as anything.

John kissed him, and _kissed_ him, and Rodney melted against his lover as John whispered back, “You did _great_ , Rodney.”

Hearing the honest joy in John’s voice, feeling the smile against his lips, Rodney was glad he’d given in to the whimsies of this irritating and dysfunctional holiday. It might be trite, it might be corny, but John was _happy_ ; was happy with him _and_ his romantic gesture, and that made everything worthwhile.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Much, much later, Rodney lifted his head from where it rested on John’s naked chest. He scowled as he poked at the skinny man’s ribs, earning a discomforted grunt from Sheppard and an inquisitive glare.

“So, where are _my_ flowers and chocolates and such like?” he demanded to know. “Not that I really _want_ to sneeze up a lung or suffer itchy, water eyes and not that I really _want_ to risk anaphylaxis shock on a chance from a chocolate box, but—“

“Rodney.” John’s voice was gruff as he gave him a half-amused, half-frustrated glare.

“Yes?”

“Where’d you get the flowers from? The chocolate box?”

“I hardly see how that matters.”

“Indulge me.”

“I _did_ that already with the whole romantic set-up and then the getting down on my knees on an un-cushioned surface—“

“ _Rod_ ney!”

Rodney sighed, rolled his eyes, and said, “I traded Simpson a solid three months of letting Zelenka handle all of her project supervision for the flowers and I traded a foot rub to Keller, payable on her say-so, for the chocolates.”

John nodded. “I thought so.” With that, he got up from their bed and went to the dresser where the bouquet of roses and the chocolate box had been tossed an hour or so earlier.

“What are you doing? When I asked for flowers and chocolates, I didn’t mean the ones I’d given _you_ , you Indian giver! And by flowers and chocolates, I didn’t even mean those! Surely I rate at least a diamond – not that I’m asking you to marry me or suggesting you should ask me, certainly not, because, really: what would I do with a diamond except fit it into a laser diode? An Ancient crystal or three! _That_ would be far more practical and… and… what?”

While he’d been ranting, Rodney had sat up and watched John pull something from the inside of the cellophane wrapped around the bouquet and remove the lid from the box of chocolates. Now, John tossed the thing from the flowers and the lid onto the bed and stood there, arms crossed over his naked chest while he looked at him expectantly. Rodney thought it was horribly unfair of him to loom while naked. That long, lean, strong body barely visible in the moonlight coming through the window made him think some very think-y thoughts indeed.

Still, when John cleared his throat, Rodney sighed and picked up the lid from the box of chocolates. He angled it toward the moonlight for a better look, but simply saw a red matte finish on the top of the lid. Frowning, he flipped it over, and paused at the writing he saw there.

_I didn’t think we’d actually eat these, because I don’t want to risk you getting sick, but the order I put in for your favorites from Lake Champlain somehow went ‘missing’ and I got these instead. I’ll get you the real stuff, and I’ll enjoy feeding bits of chocolate to you, but in the meantime… thought that counts? ~ JS_

Rodney swallowed as read the message in very familiar handwriting. His hands shaking, he let the box lid fall to the mattress and reached for the small rectangular card that had been in the flower bouquet; a card he hadn’t noticed in his haste to make everything perfect for John.

_”Caring for each other, being happy with each other, being good to each other – that’s what we call love.” He was right; I like it a lot. ~ JS_

“Kirk,” Rodney whispered, and let his hand fall to his lap as he looked up at John, dismayed.

“No,” John said, and pulled the card and box lid away from him; tossed them away and slid back into bed with him. “Don’t look like that, Rodney.”

“But… but you… those were _yours_ ….”

John kissed him, and kept kissing him until Rodney relaxed down onto the mattress and his hands came up to curl around his arms.

“They still are mine,” John murmured, resting his forehead against Rodney’s. “Yeah, at first, I was gonna give ‘em to you, but every time I tried to deliver them, I stumbled across you griping about how much you hated the Valentine’s Day trappings. I didn’t want to make you miserable to prove how much I… y’know. So, I gave ‘em away and thought I’d just get you your favorite MRE or something and then a night of awesome sex.”

“Well… one out of two isn’t bad,” Rodney muttered, recalling the spectacular lovemaking they’d indulged in earlier.

John laughed. The sound was like gravel in a gristmill and Rodney smiled at the ridiculous noise coming from such an attractive man – as always.

“So, yeah,” John said, stretching out alongside him, “they’re mine, first as a from-me-to-you and then, they were from-you-to-me. You didn’t know where Simpson and Keller had gotten them from. That means it was a blank slate, s’far as I’m concerned and, really, the thought _counts_ , Rodney. It counts with me. I know you don’t usually put much thought into the holiday and all, but I know you put thought into me.”

“Dork,” Rodney growled, his face and neck and chest heating with a ferocious blush. “You unmitigated dork.”

“True dat,” John said, and snickered at the shove against his shoulders. Then, he kissed his lover again. “Rodney, don’t fret, okay? I’m supremely flattered that you went to so much trouble for me. I’m glad you _wanted_ to go to so much trouble for me; that I mean enough to you that you’d do it.”

“Of course I – don’t you know? I’d do… John, what I’d _do_ for you…” Rodney whispered, pulling the other man close; closer and down atop him.

“Yeah,” John whispered, agreeing and understanding. “Yeah.”

Rodney grinned into the other man’s kiss, relieved and _happy_ – on _Valentine’s Day_ , no less! It was the only decent Valentine’s Day he’d ever had. He muttered as much into John’s mouth even as he stroked his hands along bony hips.

“That’s ‘cause it’s the first one you’ve ever had with _me_ ,” John replied, getting comfortable against him. “I know ‘cause it’s the first decent Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had, too.”

McKay grinned some more, utterly delighted. He knew what that meant! His genius was good for everything from calibrating delicate alien crystals to deciphering muttered love words even while being distracted with extremely hot and sexy naked time things!

As Rodney spread himself open to his lover, John began kissing his way lower. He smiled at the sounds of delight rumbling from Rodney’s throat. Sure, the past few days had been tense and frustrating and kind of stomach-achy; he’d been sure it was a debacle in the making, but everything had turned out alright in the end. He figured that was par for the course with Rodney McKay: all he had to do was hang in there through thick and thin – and there was no way he’d ever stop doing that.

“Seriously,” Rodney grumbled a moment later, “not that you aren’t doing very nice things to me, but Ancient crystals? Those I could use more of, sooner rather than later.”

John tucked his face against Rodney’s belly and _laughed_.

Seriously: best Valentine’s Day _ever_.

 

End


End file.
